Argh I don't know where to begin...

Well not much more change can be fitted into one journal entry, so I'm just going to start at the start (errr duh).

Mardi Gras 2002, so completely amazing, yet so scary. Thursday night before Mardi Gras, finish work, and am convinced to go to drinks at ARQ with Bianca from work. Arrive at ARQ, only to be told I can't go in because they're too full, and there's a private party on. Deep breaths in, came close to pulling the "Do you know who I am" line, but left, and went to Stonewall for drinks instead. Went upstairs, where it was surprisingly busy (especially for a thursday night). Got quite easily pissed on Long Island Teas and Vodka Lime & Soda's (my drink de jour).

Dancing merrily (well like a filthy alcaholic), and spot a cute blonde guy across the room... flash a nice smil hello, and go back to my stumbling. Next I look up, he's dancing next to me smiling again and dancing on his own. Swallow my nerves, and say hi, smalltalk while dancing, and he's actually quite nice. From England, over for Mardi Gras, just out for a few drinks with friends. He wasn't telling me to fuck off, so I offer to buy him a drink... I did, but pissed off my nut I had to run up Oxford St to get money out, come back in, clamber upstairs and buy the drink, the find where he was. Done successfully, we spoke for a while, then his friends left. Offered for him to stay out with us dancing, so it was me, Bianca, and James, the boy from Brighton.

We ended up at ARQ, which was busy as all hell. Spent yet another night there, doing what we do. We all came back to my place here, sat around and talked, then went our seperate ways. Bianca home before her hubby realised she went out, James to climb the Harbour Bridge, and me to get my haircut.

More in the next post...